


I'm An Educated Virgin

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-25
Updated: 2005-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-27 11:30:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12080181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Someone is... and someone is not. Who? Read and you shall find out...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

AN: Semi-inspired by this Wallflowers tune. Words and phrases taken from it, so I'm merely borrowing(and THANKS!), Mr. beautiful blue-eyed Jakob Dylan and Co. :)

Ripples and shiny, bright rocks. He skipped them afternoons, evenings. Weekends. He had nothing else to do.   
The lake was empty tonight. Brian watched the lights flicker on and off from the house across from him.

A beautiful, old Victorian. He knew the family who lived there. They were everything he never was and never would be: sophisticated, socially acceptable. Beautiful. They had a son. He was

\- inescapable, always in the hidden cobwebs of his mind, always chasing him down hallways and empty rooms when his thoughts wandered in french class  
-sensual, he pictured interludes with rich white candles and blue gingham picnic baskets. One night where he was robbed of his virginity: the best kidnapping of his life.  
-his dream. His ticket to ride, his freedom trail.

rich, and blonde. Very very I-drink-tea-with-my-pinky-fingers-out boy. Brian knew he would never, ever run into him around anywhere, he went to private school and hung around with his other status equals. In his dream none of it would matter to the blonde boy, it would all run down the drain, along with soap and hair and blood.

Brian stood up, stretched. Closed his eyes and skipped one last rock. It landed on the other side, near the water's edge.

In bed he crawled under his white sheets and removed himself from the fights and the fists, the screams, tears, and slamming doors. He was next to his secret lover, their foreheads pressed together under his sheet, his face lit up by a flashlight. The blonde boy kissed him, his lips red and wet and round, his hair dripping from a shower.

Brian fell asleep with a soft, faint smile.

Now he was in class. He had no friends, he was the dirt-poor fuck-up who lived with the drunks in the old house.

He was sixteen. Alone. He had a reason to be sorrowful. He didn't need to be saved.

But he wouldn't have minded if someone did.

Outside the leaves blew in his face, he zipped up his three-year old black jacket, sat by the a tree near the lake, closer to his dream house.

Stared at his hands. Their curves, the lines that would tell his future, if he knew how to read palms.

Black boots with white laces. Ripped jeans with white strings falling to their sides. Brian slid one eye upwards, saw a mess of blond hair. A brown leather jacket.

"What are you doing on my property?"

Brian couldn't tell that the boy was wearing a smirk. All he heard was you're doing something wrong, get the fuck out of my face and do something right for a change. He stood up quickly, dusting his hands on his jeans. Stared at the ground.

"Sorry. I was just, sitting. Didn't mean anything by it."

The words flew out of his mouth fast and hard, a mumbled string of sentences. The boy inched in closer to him. Brian looked up quickly enough to see he had a birthmark on the inside of his neck, near his ear.

"Hey,slow down. I was just messing with ya. Stay here all fuckin' day long, it's beautiful out here."

He heard that. Reverence. The blonde liked nature. This time Brian looked up. Lips unsure what to do. Smile and give himself away? Frown and turn him off. Brian stood there and looked naieve. His speciality.

"You look...familiar. Have I seen you before?"

He shifted his weight to his other foot. "I don't think so. Look, I'm sorry for bothering you. I'll get out of your way."

Brian turned and felt a hand on his shoulder. The imprint burned him, he sighed and felt the weight of one hand change the way he looked at things. He closed his eyes and turned around.

"I would really like it if you stayed."

That was where he ended up: his hands at his side. The blonde boy's hand still on his shoulder.

"I'm Justin, by the way."

"Brian."

He felt each letter curve around his mouth as he spoke his own name.


	2. I'm An Educated Virgin

His back to the oak tree, Brian sat and stared. 

Wondered how the hell he walked into this situation.

Justin sat next to him, cigarette smoke swirling around his face. It was freakish and lovely. He felt like he was falling into a spiral and then he awoke, shaking violently. He hoped this wasn't the beginning of a bad dream.

"So. Why are you here all alone? Shouldn't you be out galavanting, getting fucked up and fucking around?"

Brian stared straight ahead.

"Eh. I prefer being alone."

Justin grinned.

"No friends, huh?"

He turned that time. Looked into his eyes. 

"What about you? Why are you sitting here with me? You're rich, you can do anything you want. With anyone you want."

Justin snorted. "Don't act like my fuckin' father. I know, alright? God. I just thought that someone like you-"

"Someone like me? What the fuck does that mean?"  
Brian looked down at his chest, his legs. He was wearing an old brown sweater and a crappy pair of jeans. How could he have guessed he wasn't rich.  
Justin sensed he was taken aback. He turned to face him and whispered this time. To make him understand.

"I just thought. I mean, you looked so. Fuck. I can see you don't want company, so I'll go into my fucking castle and brood like the fuckin' arrogant prince that I am. Will that make you happy?"

He whispered ''happy'' like it were the secret to youth. Like he was a stranger to the word, a foreign dialect he had never spoken before. Before Justin got up and walked away he left his hand on Brian's pants. As he spoke he gently tapped it for emphasis, then got up and left. Brian heard his door slam, a light turn on on the top floor.

So. How the fuck to get him interested in some dumb fuck like himself?


End file.
